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Jall^s apd Jales 

61i^abetl^ ^larrisot^ 

©l^e Cateppillap and gtittepfly 








copyright, i.s93, 
By Elizabeth Harrison. 


The Caterpillar and Butterfly. 

*•¥ ET me engage you as a nurse for my 
-L' children, " said a Butterfly to a quiet 
Caterpillar who was strolling along a cab- 
bage leaf in her odd, lumbering way. 

"See these little eggs," continued the 
Butterfly. ' ' I don't know how long it will be 
before they come to life and I am obliged 
to go on a dangerous and long journey, 
from which I may never return, and in that 
case who will take care of my baby butter- 
flies when I am gone? Will you, green 

"You will have to be very careful what 
you give them to eat; they will need early 
dew and honey from the flowers, and please 
let them fly about only a little at first for of 
course one cannot expect them to use their 

wings properly all at once. I cannot think 
what made me come and lay my eggs on a 
cabbage leaf. Still, if I am not here you 
will be kind to my little ones, will you not ^ ' 

The Caterpillar had not even time to re 
spond, before the Butterfly fiew rapidly 
away, and she was left standing alone by 
the side of the eggs. 

' ' Oh, why did she leave me to be a nurse 
for the lovely little butterflies," exclaimed 
the Caterpillar, "a poor crawling creature 
like me? " 

However there lay the eggs on the cab- 
bage leaf, and the green Caterpillar in the 
kindness of her heart resolved to do her 

But she had no sleep that night, she was 
so very anxious. She walked all night long 
around her young charges, for fear some 
harm might come to them, and in the 
morning she said to herself: " I will consult 
some wise animal upon the matter and get 
advice. Two heads are certainly better than 

But still there was a difficulty. Whom 
should the Caterpillar consult? 

There was the shaggy dog, who some- 
times came into the garden, but he would 
not be likely to know anything about a 
butterfly or its eggs. Then, too, there was 
the cat, who would sometimes sit at the 
foot of the apple tree basking himself in the 
sun and warming his fur, but he never 
talked with butterflies so his experience 
would not be of much use. 

"I know what I'll do," at last said the 
Caterpillar, " I'll see the lark," and she fan- 
cied because he flew up so high and no one 
knew where he went to, that he must be 
very clever and know a great deal, for to go 
up very high, which she could never do, 
was the Caterpillar's idea of happiness. 

Now, in the neighboring cornfield, there 
lived a Lark. And the Caterpillar sent a 
message to him, to beg him to come and 
talk to her, and when he came she told 
him all of her difficulties and asked him 
what she was to do, to feed and care for 

the little creatures so different from her- 

' ' Perhaps you will be able to inquire 
and learn something about it, next time you 
go up high," observed the Caterpillar 

The Lark said perhaps he would. Soon 
afterwards he went up into the bright, blue 
sky singing. By degrees his voice died 
away in the distance, till the green Caterpil- 
lar could not hear a sound. It is nothing 
"o say she could not see him, for she had 
difficulty in looking upward at all, even 
when she reared herself most carefully, 
which she now did. But it was of no use. 
So she dropped upon her legs again and re- 
sumed her walk around the Butterfly's eggs, 
nibbling a little bit of the cabbage leaf now 
and then as she moved along. 

' ' What a time the Lark has been gone ! " 
she cried at last. ' ' I wonder where he is 
just now. I would give all my legs to know; 
he must have flown up higher than usual 
this time. I would like to know where it is 

he goes to, and what he hears in the curious 
blue sky. He ahvays sings in going up and 
coming down," and the green Caterpillar 
took another turn around the beautiful eggs. 

At last the Lark's voice began to be 
heard again. 

The Caterpillar almost jumped for joy, 
and it was not long before she saw her 
friend descend with hushed note, to the 
cabbage bed. 

"News! news! Glorious news!" sang 
the Lark, "but I am afraid you will never 
believe me." 

"I will believe anything you tell me," 
answered the Caterpillar eagerly. 

"Very well, then; first of all, I will tell 
you what those little creatures are to eat, " 
and the Lark nodded towards the eggs. 
"What do you think is to be given?" 

' ' Dew and honey out of the flowers, " said 
the Caterpillar. 

"No, indeed, it is something simpler 
than that; something that you can get at 
quite easily." 


"I can get quite easily at nothing but 
cabbage leaves," murmured the Caterpillar 
in distress. 

"Excellent, my good friend! " cried the 
Lark, exultingly, "you have found it out. 
You are to feed them with cabbage leaves. " 

"Oh," said the Caterpillar, "their 
mother's last request to me was that I 
should 'give them dew and honey from the 

"Their mother knew nothing about the 
matter," persisted the Lark. "Why Cater- 
pillar, what do you think those little eggs 
will turn out to be?" 

"Butterflies, to be sure," said the Cater- 

"No, indeed; caterpillars!" sang the 
Lark, "and you'll find it out in time," and 
the Lark flew away. 

" I thought the Lark was wise and kind," 
observed the mild, green Caterpillar, once 
more beginning to walk around the eggs, 
' ' but I find he is not. Perhaps he went 
up too high this time ; I still wonder whom he 

sees, and what he sees up yonder; but here 
he comes again." 

' ' I have something else to tell you, " cried 
the Lark, "for the best of my news remains 
untold — and that is, that one day you will 
yourself be a butterfly. " 

"Ah! this IS unkind; you jest with me," 
said the Caterpillar." 

' ' I was afraid you would not believe me, " 
said the Lark in his turn. 

"I will believe you; but when you tell 
me that from butterflies' eggs come cater- 
pillars, and that caterpillars leave off' crawl- 
ing, and get wings and become butterflies, 
it does not seem possible or even reason- 

"Whether I hover over the cornfields of 
earth, or go far up into the heights of the 
sky, I see so many wonderful things, that 
there can be no reason why there should not 
be more. Oh, Caterpillar, it is because you 
never get beyond your cabbage leaf, that 
you call anything impossible.'' Just at that 
moment the Caterpillar felt something at 

her side; she looked around — eight Httle 
green caterpillars were moving about, and 
had already made a show of a hole in the 
cabbage leaf. They had broken from the 
butterfly's eggs." 

Amazement filled our green worm's heart, 
but joy soon followed, for as the first won- 
der was possible, the second one might be 
so too, 

"Teach me your lesson, Lark," she said, 
and the Lark sang to her of the wonders of 
the earth below, and of the heavens above, 
and the Caterpillar talked the rest of her 
life of the time when she should be a but- 

But no one could realize it. She, how- 
ever, had learned to believe, and when she 
was going into her chrysalis she said: "I 
know I shall some day be a butterfly." 

For a long time the poor worm lay curled 
up in her dull, gray chrysalis, sound asleep 
or too dull to care to stir. However, one 
bright, spring day the sun shone so warm 
and the breezes sang so softly, and yet so 

coaxingly, that the httle worm woke up and 
began to stretch her head and then her 
body; still she stretched and stretched until 
the end of the cocoon broke off, and out 
came the same little worm's head. Soon 
the body crawled out too, but oh, how dif- 
ferent! It now had great, yellow wings on 
it as soft as velvet and as light as a feather, 
and they could bear the little worm's body 
up, up so high that the tall tree tops were 
below her. Ah, how happy she was! By 
this time she looked down to the spot where 
the eggs had been left, and lo! there were 
little green worms crawling about on the 
cabbage leaf. ' ' Never mind being worms 
now, " she thought, ' ' you, too, will be but- 
terflies some time." 


Beneath the soft, white snow so deep. 
Flowers and grasses sweetly sleep; 
Safe from winter's chill or pain 
They sleep and wait the warm, spring rain. 

But soon the bright sun's glowing ray 
Will melt the snow and ice away, 

Lovingly it will downward creep 

And wake the flowers from llieir sleep. 

Within our hearts, sometimes, you know, 
Winter comes with ice and snow; 
But love, the sunshine of the heart, 
Bids it, with its chill, depart. 



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